


Lets pretend there is only a wall in between our beds instead of a continent of regret

by RammBook



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Gen, I promise I love you, I swear, Sorry again its so late was what i meant to say lol, Sorry it is so late again, The rest is mostly mentioned tbh, and thank you for giving me permission to share it with the world, i am not notoriously late with presents, tbh the focus is on Louie and Della, unofficial Secret Santa in our Discord server
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22020988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RammBook/pseuds/RammBook
Summary: Louie can't sleep and Della can't either. She sees him walking through the kitchen. They don't talk about it, but end up feeling better anyways.
Relationships: Della Duck & Louie Duck
Kudos: 51





	Lets pretend there is only a wall in between our beds instead of a continent of regret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlegreen_jellybean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlegreen_jellybean/gifts).



> I already spammed the tags, but again, this is for a Secret Santa of my Discord server where we decided to hold our own, small celebration. I am a bit late for Christmas (believe me, I know), but to my defense, finals kicked my butt. Obviously I didn't procrastinate like, at all. Obviously.  
> So with the dead-deadline being tomorrow i absolutely had to finish it yesterday. Or editing more like it, because my first draft is always super short and I didn't want to give my friend 200 words in bad quality if I could do way better. So here we are!  
> Bean, my dear friend, has already read this and given me permission to share it with all of you! Thank you, Bean!  
> Now don't let me keep you from reading and I hope you enjoy!

Technically, he should be asleep and not on his phone, with it being 2 in the morning and all that jazz. But here’s the thing: He can’t seem to fall asleep. No matter if he lays on his right side, his left side, his back or his stomach. No matter if he tries counting money or breathing evenly, sleep just won’t come to him. No matter if he’s on his phone or not. So there.

Besides, he’s shutting it off anyways, watching the display turn black for the third time that night. 

Not even the internet provides him with enough awake people to make a profit that would be worth the work he’d have to put into it. 

He turns around to face the room, instead of the wall, his brain taunting him with shapes and colours he cannot deal with otherwise. The chaos might match his inner turmoil, but that does not mean its presence is a welcome one.

Their room is dark, the open curtain saving it from being pitch black, avoiding a repeat of the whole wall-situation. Sometimes he really hates his brain.

Moonlight illuminates the foot of the bed and he remembers the heated argument between his brothers whether to keep the window open and allowing fresh air to come inside or to keep it shut and the warmth inside. Huey won, backed up by Louie and his wish to remain comfortable with his one blanket. Who wants to wake up just to walk through a freezing room and get another blanket?

And he has to admit, it was kind of nice to see Deweys smug face fall. Sucks to suck, doesn’t it?

He slams his face into his pillow to derail that thought right there. He might be the evil triplet, but that’s a new low, even for him. Sure, brotherly love can be harsh, but that is too harsh. He is his brother, you can’t get any closer than that. And besides, they only have each other, which means they gotta stick together!

Although…

That’s not true anymore, is it?

They aren’t just Uncle Donald and Huey and Dewey and Louie against the world anymore.

Now they got Uncle Scrooge and Mrs. Beakley and LP and - Mom.

If they aren’t alone anymore, is it okay to be mean now?

He lifts his head from the pillow and stares into the room, trying hard to concentrate on something, anything else.

Don’t think about being mean. Being mean isn’t the only thing you’re good at. There is only one thing you are good at. There is one thing you’re good at and it’s not being mean.

_ It’s causing trouble. _

He shakes his head. Arguably Dewey got them in way more trouble.

_ But he didn’t get chewed out by Mom. _

Mom isn't a real Mom, he argues. She's his mother, sure, but she isn't one. She is not a Mom, so it doesn't count.  **_She is not._ **

Okay, so maybe she tried to tell a fun story to entertain them- that backfired, he remembers with a glance at the offending chair. And she came back as soon as she could- embarrassing herself in the process.  _ But Uncle Scrooge missed her so bad it didn't even matter. _

Maybe it doesn't matter what Uncle Scrooge thinks. He's biased anyways. Blinded by love or whatever.

He isn't.

It's not that he doesn't feel loved or anything, because he does, especially when she tries to keep all of them safe. He knows she cares. He likes her and trusts her. Isn't that enough?!

Dewey and Huey seem to love her already and they haven't known her for longer than he has.  _ Maybe something is wrong with him. _

Maybe, just maybe he needs more time.  _ Even more time wasted. _

Problems don't get solved with a speech and a hug. At least some problems don't. The really big ones at least. And this, this feels big, it feels huge. Enourmous. Bigger than losing Webby, bigger than defeating Magica. This concerns him,  **personally.**

His stomach drops and he feels nausea creeping up. 

He's running from the rock that threatens to crush him, running as fast as he can, still the rock creeps closer and closer and suddenly he's falling, falling and-

He gasps. Ragged breaths. Desperate.

Sweat is pooling on the mattress. His ribs heaving. It hurts. Badly.

He fights his body to let him get up. A glass of water will help. It has to. 

* * *

All of them only went to bed at midnight, to Mrs. Beakleys chagrin even the kids, but adventure doesn't care for sleep patterns. So maybe they went to bed a bit late, but it's not like they have to do something important on a sunday. Besides sleeping in and doing nothing, of course. So she doesn't sweat the small stuff, why should she? 

One time won't kill them, otherwise she'd be dead right now. Because she can't fall asleep, despite the fact that exciting journeys usually do the trick. Apparently not this time, though.

Her body aches for sleep, a deep longing that takes over her mind, desperate for a little bit of rest.

But something seems to stop her from crashing down and passing out. 

She forces herself to stay in bed, knowing fully well that if she gets up she has no chance on falling asleep at all. Her body is weird like that. 

So she hides under her blanket and tries to figure out why she's not sleeping yet.

_ She is exhausted, she should be asleep. _

Being a parent is draining in a way she didn't expect, bringing new hurdles every day, but it is also deeply satisfying. So that should be enough to tire her out. Technically.

Realistically she is still in her bed, yearning for sleep, being awake.

_ What is wrong? _

Maybe she's hungry, hunger keeps people awake, right?

But no, that can't be it, they ate before being chased, her stomach should be fine.

Oh oh, how about thirst? There has to be a reason people drink water to fall asleep!

She grabs for the bottle she keeps in her bed and chugs the remainder of the drink inside.

It doesn't help.

She knows there is nothing she can do anymore, so she gets up instead. Maybe she feels unsafe for her family. Is there a word for it?

Worry? But worry has a reason, right? She slips out of the room, deep in thought as she makes her way to the kids rooms.

The hallways are, unsurprisingly, dark and empty. The carpet swallows every potential sound. Even her mechanical leg is quiet. No stomping, no squeaking, just silence. 

She doesn't try to be quiet, she just is. Until she sees Louie, creeping out of his room. She gasps and hides behind a corner. He's not supposed to be up!

To be fair, neither is she, but that's not important right now. Important is to keep Louie safe, wherever he's going. That's a stupid thought, it's not like he's going to be attacked in here, right now, but. But Della is sleep deprived so there.

Her brain is not not working, it's just a little bit slow.

So anyways, she decides to follow him, see where it leads. 

He walks like a zombie, she finds. Step after step dragging himself to his destination, without eyes for his environment. She thinks about attacking him, just to teach him a lesson, but she decides not to after he turns around for a quick glance. He looks as tired as she feels. She continues following him.

* * *

The kitchen had been empty when he arrived, because of course it had been. He didn't really remember how he got there, but now that he was aware of his surroundings, he felt observed. Like an insect under a microscope. Huey had tried to make him see the "beauty of all things nature through the lenses of a scientist" once and he still feels sick thinking about it to this day. All those moving limbs and shaking bodies were just way too gross to even think about.

He got a glass instead.

His hands grabbed it tighter than necessary, as he didn't want to drop it, not now when everyone's asleep and the only thing waiting for him afterwards is the question why he isn't asleep yet.

As he walked towards the fridge, cold air seemed to creep closer and the shadows of the furniture stretched and stretched, trying to reach him with their long claws. He walked a tiny bit faster, just to be sure, and -

Footsteps, right behind him. He turned around, but no one's there. 

He still has the empty glass in his hand, warm as his feathers, hugged close, eyes wide. 

He doesn't sleep for the rest of the night but when his brothers get up, he does too. No one needs to worry about it. Nothing happened.

It's not a big deal. He was just scared of nothing. There was no one.

Also: It's no one's business. It just isn't. So there.

He falls in line behind his siblings, Dewey chatting excitedly with Webby, Huey reading some anatomy book.

He glares at his food like it personally made the shadows look creepy and takes a hefty bite, crunching down on the cereal. 

He isn't hungry, but if he isn't seen eating, the adults will worry. Or at least Mrs. Beakley and he doesn't have the energy to face her today. Or any day, really. Still, it is easier to invent a lie on the spot when his brain doesn't feel like giving out any second now. Mrs. Beakley doesn't even look at him, though, concentrated on breaking up a heated discussion between Violet and Huey. Apparently, they slept over, but honestly, who cares? Not Louie, so much is clear.

They are over so much, it feels like he has got two sisters more and one of them bites.

His gaze glides past the girls and his uncles to his mom. She's captured Dewey in a thrilling story about some stupid fight on a stupid adventure, moving her arms as she talks. 

His eyes start drooping and he rubs them harshly. Oh so now his body wants to sleep. Great. 

He doesn't know when but at some point Moms focus shifts from Dewey to Huey and she's talking about… lungs? And the affect of asbestos?

He tries to concentrate on what she's saying, he really does, but her sentences stop making sense and turn into a soft lullaby instead. He's gone in seconds.

* * *

He wakes up when Tur- **_Dewey_ ** loudly proclaims "Boooooooring!" His voice is so booming that not just Della and Mrs. Beakley seem to disapprove, but even Launchpad looks appalled. And from what she's seen of him, he adores her son. 

She suppresses a smile at his face in favor of scolding Dewey. 

She didn't even do anything, just watched him, watching over him, she corrects. Subtly like Huey advised her to. She was never good at being subtle but she tried hiding a song between her words. It seems to have worked.

Louie gets up when the others do, wiping bits and pieces of cereal with his arm to the ground. She has a split second to decide.

Her, laying in her bed, trying to fall asleep after, failing miserably.

Him, falling asleep on the table, after sprinting back to his room.

Them, awake at the same time, quiet about it.

"Hey Louie," she says and he stops dead in his tracks. He doesn't turn around. Not like before.

"YeAh?" He replies, his voice breaking. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yeah, Mom? What's up?"

"I've wondered," she begins and his body gets stiff. "If you'd like to help me with some equations." His body relaxes.

"Why don't you go and ask Huey?" He answers, his tone of voice clearly replacing 'ask' with 'bother'. But she wouldn't be Della Duck if she didn't expect a no.

"Aw, okay, I'll ask him if he helps me count Scrooges mon-" Before she can end the sentence, he has turned around, big smile in place.

"Count me in."

Ten minutes later both of them are asleep in the money bin, list on the ground and Louie in her arms.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As always, please tell me if you notice any mistakes, english is my second language and while i did have my lovely friend Cobalt beta read it, mistakes can always sneak in.  
> Of course if you just want to leave a comment cause you liked it, i am not opposed :D
> 
> Have a wonderful time and a happy new year! Was a crackin decade!


End file.
